


Supernatural Oneshots

by AvengingSherlocksAssbutt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Reader can be female or male in most oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingSherlocksAssbutt/pseuds/AvengingSherlocksAssbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Collection of some of my favourite Supernatural oneshots transferred from my writing blog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Human!Cas x Reader: Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was both my favourite Castiel oneshot and the most popular oneshot on the whole blog.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1,201  
> Theme: Fluff

It was late when your phone rang. So late, in fact, that the ringing woke you up. Blearily, you answered it. 

"Hello?"

You heard someone mumble your name. 

"Who- who’s there?"

"It’s Cas."

"Cas?" You sat up, worried. You’d split from the Winchesters a few months prior after a Hunt had gone wrong, and you hadn’t heard from them - or Cas since. "Are you okay?"

"I uh…" his small voice barely seemed to carry over the line. "Is there room… In your apartment for me?"

You paused, confused. “What’s happened to the bunker?”

"Nothing, nothing’s happened to it. I just…" There was a sigh. "Dean says I can’t stay, and I have nowhere to go."

You were still a little confused, but you guessed that since he was kind of cut off from heaven recently, he wasn’t welcome home and didn’t want to be alone. You still didn’t get why Dean would kick him out though. 

"Sure Cas. You can come straight over."

There was a silence. Not even the beating of wings, which usually followed a conversation call with him. Just to be sure you’d missed the sound of him taking off, you glanced around your living room. Nope, nothing. 

"Cas?"

"I can’t uh… I can’t get there. Could you pick me up?"

You smiled sadly. Obviously the cut from heaven was draining his powers. “Sure thing Cas, why don’t you just tell me where you are, and I’ll come fetch you?”

 

_________________________________________________________

 

You almost missed him as you drove through your down-town neighbourhood half an hour later. You were looking out for his long, sweeping trench coat, but what you saw instead was a guy in a dark hoodie and jeans, leaning heavily on the wall of a shop. You pulled up with a screech of brakes and jumped out of the car.

"Cas? What the hell?"

His whole face broke into a desperate smile when he saw you walking towards him, and in a cracked voice, he called your name. 

"Thank you for collecting me."

"Cas, you smell like a toilet." You wrinkled your nose as you approached him, and he sighed, lowering his head. 

"Yes, my current circumstances are… less than desirable." he admitted, looking back up at you. "I’m sorry to ask this, but I really do need your help."

You nodded, frowning. “Okay, that’s fine. Just… Come here, come back to my place, and I’ll get you a shower and some clean clothes.”

"And some food, too?"

You glanced over the roof of your car at him, your eyes narrowed. Angels didn’t need food. 

"Yeah… And some food too, Cas. No problem," you murmured after a minute. 

He smiled brightly at you as he clambered into the car. 

 

_________________________________________________________

"You having fun in there?" You called to the half open door of the bathroom, over the sound of running water. Cas had been in the shower for over half an hour. It wasn’t particularly surprising, if you were honest. He was filthy. 

"Yes!" He called back, and you smiled, stepping inside the bathroom with some clean clothes for him, and a towel straight from the drier. 

"I’ve brought you some clothes, and a couple of towels and stuff so-" you stopped talking as the water shut off, and Cas stepped out, in all his naked glory. You averted your eyes, snatching up a towel and throwing it in his direction. When you looked back, he was mumbling an apology and securing it around his waist. 

"S’okay." Your eyes trailed down his chest for a couple of brief seconds, before jumping back up to his face. Not bad. Not bad looking at all. 

"I uh… Thank you for the clothes." he motioned to the pile behind you. 

"That’s fine. It’s just a pair of jeans and a shirt that I thought might fit you. I’ll go make some dinner."

You excused yourself and shut the door, walking out into the living room with a smile on your face. Now, food. 

_________________________________________________________

When Cas stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair was still damp, but he was fully clothed. He smiled at you as he entered the kitchen. 

"It smells nice." he admitted, and you nodded, your hands gripping the silver knife under the breakfast bar, as you watched him take a seat opposite you. You were suspicious of this new Cas; the one who was hungry and dirty and wearing different clothes. What if it wasn’t Cas at all?

"Hungry?"

He nodded enthusiastically. “Very.”

Just then, your phone buzzed, alerting you to a text message from Dean. You’d asked him what the hell was going on with Cas, and if he’d seen him recently. This was his reply. 

With your free hand, you clicked on your phone screen, and the reply came up. 

i couldnt keep him here. there are angels lookin 4 him. poor bastard screwed up in heaven & now there all lookin 4 him. lost his grace 2 so not technically an angel anymore. be careful k? call me if u need me

Every muscle in your body froze, and you slowly looked up at Cas, who was watching you carefully. You slid the silver knife into the drawer and leaned on the breakfast bar, dropping your phone into your pocket. 

"Oh Cas…" You murmured, and he sighed. 

"Dean told you?"

"You’re not an Angel any more?"

He nodded, biting his lip and frowning. He looked so sorry for himself as he hung his head, that you couldn’t believe Dean would kick him out of the bunker and into the street. Cas needed protecting, not shunning. You stood up and grabbed the soup from the stove, pouring it into a bowl for him, and buttering two slices of bread. Handing them to him at the breakfast bar, you touched his hand softly. 

"I’ll set up the couch for you, okay? You can stay here."

"Thank you," he mumbled though a mouthful of bread, "I’ll be gone in the morning."

"No." You shook your head, frowning. "I’m not having you out on the streets, Cas. After everything that you’ve done for me, you deserve a home. It’s the least I can do.”

He thanked you, tucking in to his dinner, like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. You reminded yourself that he quite possibly hadn’t eaten in days, and went about getting his bedding.

_________________________________________________________

That night, after you and Cas had dealt with Angel-proofing your apartment, you were curled up in bed, when you heard the door creep open and someone pad across the carpet to your bed.

“Are you awake?”

Exhausted though you were, you managed a smile. “What’s the matter, Cas?”

“I’m a little cold. Do you have another blanket I can use?”

You considered it for a couple of minutes, and then, smiling, you patted the space behind you in the bed. “Hop it. I’m kind of cold too.”

He looked a little unsure for a couple of seconds, but when you insisted, he slid in next to you, and then eventually, as he became more comfortable, he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug, and that was how you fell asleep.


	2. Dean Winchester x Reader: Teaching the Talkative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Drabble  
> Word Count: 831

You were drinking with some friends when you saw Sam out of the corner of your eye. He lumbered in, all tall and bulky, with his long hair swinging around his jaw, seeming to have its own centre of gravity. You seriously wondered how the guy kept his hair looking so good in his profession.

Grinning, you excused yourself by tapping your friend on the shoulder twice, indicating that you’d be back soon, before slipping through the bar to Sam. When you got close enough, you stretched up to tap his shoulder. He span around, looking confused for a few seconds, before grinning broadly. “Hey! Look who it is!”

His arms wrapped around you in a hug, and when he stepped back, he introduced you to his brother. “This is Dean. Dean, this is the girl I was telling you about. The Rugaru case a couple of years ago?”

You waved at Dean, allowing yourself the tiniest of smirks before shooting him a wink when Sam turned to order. Taken aback for a second, Dean returned it with a grin.

“So, how are you doing?” Sam asked, grabbing three beers and leading you over to a table in the corner of the bar so you could talk more easily.

Fine. You signalled, your fingers moving quickly as you spelled the word in the sign language you’d had to use since you were a child. Better.

Two years ago, your boyfriend had begun acting really weirdly. For one thing, he was always hungry. For another, he suddenly couldn’t deal with the sight of blood. He’d start twitching and sweating, and then eventually he’d just flip out and back away. Then Sam turned up on your doorstep, explaining to you exactly what you boyfriend was – A Rugaru.

Unfortunately, you’d been too late to stop him turning into the terrifying creature, and Sam had been forced to kill him. You’d been devastated. He’d been one of the few people who’d been completely accepting of your muteness, and although he’d been awful at understanding and using sign language to begin with, (you were never going to forget the day he was talking about his friend Clint and missed out one vital letter to his name), but he kept at it and got better.

Dean raised an eyebrow at you. “Huh?”

“She’s a mute, Dean.” Sam explained. Dean’s eyes widened.

“You can’t talk at all?”

You opened your mouth and attempted to push some air across your vocal chords, just as you would if you were instructed to say ‘ahhhh’. Only a low, quiet hissing sound could be heard, and Dean shot you a sympathetic look.

It’s not that bad. You signed to him. Sam translated it, and Dean stared at him in shock.

“Wait, you can do that too?”

He’s not great at signing, but he can understand.

Sam laughed and relayed it to Dean, who smiled, sipping his beer for a second before leaning forwards to look at you a little more closely. “Could you teach me some of it?”

You nodded, smiling and pushing your beers out of the way, slowly starting to sign your way through the alphabet for him, while Sam told him what they were. After a few more tries, you signalled for him to do it on his own.

“A…” He murmured, signing a shaky but recognisable A. “B…C…D…E – oh fuck.”

He froze, looking at you for help. You quickly showed him, and he carried on all the way to J before forgetting again.

After a few more tries he could get most of the letters pretty much down, so you decided to move on to words, with Sam watching with a grin.

 

“Fuck me, this is hard.” Dean groaned, trying to sign out It’s nice to meet you. You smiled patiently, watching as he frowned, trying to copy your movements. It reminded you of your (now ex) boyfriend.

You took his hands and began moving them to form the words, but he shook his head, making his fingers rigid and impossible to move. You noticed that he didn’t pull away though. “No way, I’m done. This is impossible. Can you just write for me?”

You smiled again, tipping your head to one side and nodding, giving his hands a quick squeeze while Sam went to get more beer. While he was gone, you grabbed an eyeliner pen from your bag and pulled Dean’s hand towards you. He made a noise of protest when you started inking his skin, but stopped when he realised what you were writing.

Thank you for trying to learn. It’s very sweet. If you’d like a private lesson sometime, call me.

You scrawled out your number and winked at him again, placing your pen in your bag again just as Sam came back with the drinks.

“Did I miss anything?” He asked, setting the drinks down in front of you both. Dean shook his head, shooting you a secretive grin.

“Not at all, Sammy.”


	3. Sam Winchester x Reader: Not All Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Fluff/Drabble  
> Word Count: 950

No matter how much you tossed and turned on your bed, you couldn’t get comfortable. Your sheets clung to your body, and you were too hot with them on, but if you kicked them away, you were freezing. 

Groaning, you sat up and looked at your alarm clock. It had just gone 2AM. This was getting ridiculous. 

Swinging your legs out of bed with another groan, you padded across your room, opening the door slowly so you didn’t wake the boys. Quietly, you made your way to the kitchen. Perhaps a hot chocolate would hep you sleep?

As you pulled out a mug, you heard something behind you. Spinning around, you came face to face with Sam Winchester, who was smiling softly. 

"Sorry," he whispered, "didn’t mean to scare you."

You blushed, leaning back against the counter. Sam had scared you. 

"You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. "You murmured back with a light laugh. "Especially not Hunters in the dark, Sam.”

He chuckled, reaching past you to grab something from the counter. You realised you’d knocked over the mug you’d placed there. He straightened it and smiled, his eyes lingering on your lips for a couple of brief seconds. 

"Can’t sleep either?"

You shook your head, and he grinned. “We should make a club.”

You frowned a little, looking Sam up and down. He definitely looked thinner than he had done last week, and the circles under his eyes were darker. He really looked worse for wear with all this Gadreel stuff.

"Why don’t we?" You suggested, shrugging, "why don’t we talking in my room?"

He grinned, “I’d like that. You still want that Hot Chocolate?”

"Yeah, you want one?"

He nodded and began helping you, grabbing the Cocoa and the milk from the fridge, and watching as you carefully made two cups of hot chocolate. You handed one to him and led him quietly back to you room, flicking the light off behind you. 

When you got to your room, you curled up on your bed, propped up some pillows, and Sam sat cross-legged at the foot of your bed. 

"You look tired, Sam." You said quietly, as he ran a hand through his long hair. He grinned sheepishly. 

"Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping too well recently, what with everything that’s going on."

You nod, sipping your hot chocolate. The same could have been said about you; after everything that had happened after Sam had attempted the trials, you’d been waking up to nightmares about him and Dean dying. You hadn’t had nightmares this bad since they’d opened the cage and let Lucifer out. 

"So anyway," Sam sipped his hot chocolate, "How’re you doing? We haven’t really had the chance to talk recently."

"Did we really talk to begin with?" You teased. 

"Well maybe you don’t remember, but we used to stake out quite a lot.” 

You grinned. When you’d first started hunting with the boys - back when all you’d had to worry about was monsters under the bed and the occasional low-threat Demon. Back when things were (relatively) simple. Back when the boys had still been training you, to make sure you could hunt without getting your ass kicked 24/7, Sam had regularly taken you with him on Stake Outs, quietly explaining every detail of what you were Hunting, so you knew exactly what to do.

"Yeah, I remember the Stake Outs."

He smiled softly. “Remember that time you fell asleep in the Impala with the doors locked, and Dean and I had to try and wake you up through the glass?”

You laughed, “He was so pissed at me. Remember the time You cut holes in the backs of all his pairs of Jeans?”

"And the time you his all his shirts?"

"And the time we were staying in that crappy motel and we poured ice water over the door of the shower when he was in there?"

Sam’s grin could have split his face in two. “And the time you told him that you needed him to come with you on a flight across the country and he was terrified the whole way to the airport, before you told him it was a joke?”

"Or the time you sent him those Anonymous E-Mails from an ‘Ex Girlfriend’?"

You smiled, the laughter dying down a little. “They were good times, Sam.”

He nodded, “Just like the time I put you on my shoulders and you dropped the clump of snow on Dean’s head last winter.”

You giggled, sipping your hot chocolate. That had been funny. It had been snowing particularly heavily overnight, and as the three of you had been laving the motel, Sam had whispered to you to grab some snow. When you did, he put you on his shoulders, and you waited for Dean to come out before dropping it all on his head. What had ensued was the most terrifying, intense Snowball fight ever. Dean had been so pissed at the two of you after that. 

"It’s not all bad, is it?" Sam asked you, after a couple of seconds of silence. You contemplated it, downing the last of your drink.

"Not all bad. The job sucks, and the pay’s crap.” You smiled at him from across your bed. “But the company’s pretty good.”

A smile twitched at Sam’s lips. “My thoughts exactly. Now,” he got to his feet, holding out his hand for your mug, which you passed to him. “I should probably go. But this was fun… We should do it again some time.”

With another smile, and a quick goodnight, Sam left your room, turning off the light as he exited.

It wasn’t all bad, you decided silently.


	4. Sam Winchester x Reader: Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Fluff  
> Word Count: 843

"Cas, when is this gonna stop?" You moaned, rubbing your forehead. The babbling of a hundred voices inside your mind was giving you a headache. The Angel frowned, peering at you. 

"I’m not sure. Hopefully it will fade soon."

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. During a hunt recently, you’d stumbled on some Witches. They’d been pretty pissed at you, and as a result, they’d put some kind of curse on you. The curse had turned out to be the ability to read thoughts. 

"Ugh, I just want it to stop."

The Angel tilted his head to one side, gently touching two fingers to the side of your head. The babbling faded slowly, into the back of your mind. 

"That should help." He said quietly. "I can’t redirect all the thoughts, but I can silence them. You should only be able to pick up on thoughts when you’re standing near a person."

You nodded, shrugging. It was better than nothing. “Thanks Cas.”

"Thanks for what?" Dean wandered into your room, drying his hands on a dishcloth. "And lunch is ready. Hey, are you okay?"

He frowned, watching as your gently massaged the front of your head. You nodded, smiling gently, and blaming it on a headache. 

"I should probably be leaving." Castiel said, and with the sound of beating wings, he was gone. Dean cocked an eyebrow. 

"What was that about?"

You shrugged, “Angels, right? Never know what they’re up to.”

Dean chuckled, and the two of you wandered into the kitchen, where Sam was sat, already eating a sandwich. He glanced up at you when you entered and smiled broadly. You returned the smile and slid into the seat next to him. 

She looks so beautiful today. 

You froze, your hand touching your glass of water. Slowly, you looked at Sam, who was eating. You narrowed your eyes and looked at Dean, who was setting down his own plate at the table. 

You picked up your glass and began to drink, sipping slowly and waiting to see if you could hear another thought. 

Then again, she looks beautiful every day. 

You almost choked on your water when you heard that, and both the boys looked up at you. 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, his hazel eyes flashing with concern. You nodded and muttered a feeble excuse. Sam watched you for another couple of seconds before going back to his food. 

"So…" Dean began. "How are we doing on looking for Crowley?" He looked across at you. 

"So far, not a lot to go on," You admitted. "Cas and I found a couple of Demons though, and -"

"We’re gonna need more than that." Dean took a bite out of his sandwich. 

Oh yeah, great Dean. Cut her off. You’re such an asshole. 

Your lips twitched as you heard Sam’s voice. As you glanced over at him, you saw he was glowering at an oblivious Dean, who was happily downing his sandwich. 

"It’s a start." Sam assured you kindly. You smiled across at him, taking in for a couple of seconds. You took in the plaid shirt that clung to his biceps. You took in his long hair, bits of which were falling out from behind his ears. You took in his light pink lips, which were currently working around the sandwich. He was completely gorgeous. 

Is she looking at me?

You quickly averted your eyes and looked back down at your food. 

Of course she wasn’t looking at you. You’ve seen the way she and Dean flirt all the time. Why the hell would she be interested in you when she could have Dean?

Sam’s face remained passive as his thoughts spiralled downwards into self pity, and as the meal continued, you heard words of self-loathing and adoration aimed at you. Some of the things he was thinking were… Well, if he’d said them out loud to you, you would have gone bright red.

After the meal, Dean cleared up, and Sam murmured something about researching in the Library. He disappeared without another word, and as you watched him go, you felt something tug at your heart. After everything Sam had been through, all the pain and hurt and torture, he needed someone.

You stood and followed him, knocking gently on the door. “Can I come in?”

He glanced up as you arrived, and you watched as his face broke into a wide smile. “Of course. Are you feeling alright?”

"Oh I’m fine." You said, moving closer to him. As you stepped into his personal space, the scent of his aftershave and deodorant hit you, and you smiled a little. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"That something is?"

You stood up on your tip toes so that you could whisper in his ear, and grabbed his shoulder to steady yourself. “I don’t flirt with Dean. It’s always been you, Sammy.”

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never seen Sam Winchester’s face light up the way it did when you whispered those words to him.


	5. Crowley x Reader: Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Romance/Drabble  
> Word Count: 552

You were sat reading in the Library of the Bunker reading when Dean came in, pulling his jacket on. 

"Hey, Sam and I are gonna go get a couple of beers. We need to you to watch Crowley." 

You glanced up at him and shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. See you in a couple of hours.”

You heard Sam and Dean leaving after a couple of minutes, and gently tapped your hands on the desk. Dean had allowed Crowley out of the Dungeon, but he still wasn’t allowed out of the Bunker, so the King of Hell was left to wander the Bunker in silence during the days. It was pretty entertaining. 

As you went back to your book, you heard footsteps, and when you looked back up, Crowley was standing in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly. 

"Can I help you with something?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He licked his lips and stepped gingerly into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked uncharacteristically nervous. 

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

You put your book down, motioning for him to continue. He took the seat opposite you and folded his hands on the table. “They’ve gone out?” He asked, obviously referring to the Winchesters. You nodded. 

"I wanted to ask you a question." He said slowly, not quite meeting your gaze. 

"A question." You echoed. 

"Do you think a Hunter, such as yourself, would ever be able to find their way past hatred and loathing and prejudice, and be able to possibly form a bond with someone who… wasn’t a Hunter?"

You raised an eyebrow. “In plain English please, Crowley.”

He licked his lower lip again, and caught it between his teeth, gnawing on it. “I was wondering… If a Hunter could ever fall in love with a Demon.”

Your mouth dropped open a little. Was Crowley asking you what you thought he was asking you?”

"Crowley…" You began, but he cut you off. 

"Just to dinner perhaps. To an Italian restaurant the said Hunter had been wanting to go to for months."

"Are you asking me on a date?" Your breath caught in your throat. A date, with the King of Hell?

He shrugged lamely. “Perhaps… If you wanted to of course. If not then -“

"Sam and Dean are going to be out for a couple of hours." You said with a smile. "I’d love to go."

His head jerked up, and he stared at you with warm brown eyes for a couple of seconds. Then, the cold mask came down, and his eyes reverted to their usual sarcastic, arrogant way. His lips quirked into a smirk, and he nodded. You rolled your eyes. 

"Just let me get my coat, Crowley." You murmured, standing up and walking past him to go to your room, barely concealing your grin. He reached out and grabbed your hand, whirling you around to face him, and you realised with a start that he was standing. 

"I’m a Demon." He began. "I’m not supposed to care about people. I lost that privilege a long time ago. But you…" He gently stroked your cheek. "You’re different."

You grinned openly, pressing your lips to his cheek in a soft kiss. “Just let me get my coat and we can go.”


	6. Castiel x Reader: Blizzard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Fluff  
> Word Count: 928

You were reading quietly in the motel room, waiting for Sam and Dean to get back so you could get on the road again, when Castiel called your name softly. You looked up to see him stood by the window, staring out into the darkness with a confused look on his face. 

"Cas? What’s wrong?" You put you book down and walked over to him, checking to see that your gun was on the coffee table. His eyes were narrowed as he gazed out of the window. 

"What’s going on?" He asked, pushing back the curtain a little bit more so you could see what was happening. You felt a grin spread across your features, and almost laughed. 

"Cas, that’s snow."

"Snow?"

"Yeah," Your grin stretched as you thought of something. "Come on."

He frowned, confused, as you grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door. “Where are we going?”

You opened the door, bracing yourself for the cold, before stepping outside with the Angel. Snow was swirling and falling heavily around the two of you, and for a few seconds, you just stood there, laughing. You hadn’t been able to do this in such a long time; just stand and appreciate something so calming, without having to worry about the Apocalypse, or Heaven or Hell, or Angels or Demons. 

You glanced over your shoulder to look at Cas, who still seemed confused. Smiling at him, you stuck out your tongue, allowing a cold snowflake to drop onto it and melt. Tentatively, he copied you, pulling back and shutting his mouth abruptly when the snow touched him.

You giggled, taking in how confused he was for a just a few seconds longer.

"So what do you do when it starts snowing?" Cas asked, gazing around at the quickly whitening ground. You shrugged, and begin to make a trail through the snow, stopping after a few moments to gather up a clump in your hands. After a few seconds of rolling it into a ball, you span around and threw it, catching the Angel off guard. It hit him in the chest, and exploded into a white mist of frozen water, making him jump, and then narrow his eyes. 

"A snow attack?" He asked after a couple of seconds. 

"Snow ball fight." You corrected, watching as he dropped onto his haunches to collect his own ball. As his hands were larger than yours, the snowball that sailed towards you was far bigger, and as a result, snow got everywhere. You screamed as little bits of it soaked into your top, and chucked a clump at Cas, who dodged it. 

The biggest, most intense snowball fight you’d ever been part of then started, with Castiel chasing you around the motel car park with varying sizes of snowballs. Occasionally he’d resort to grabbing you and pushing snow into your face - a manoeuvre that you’d done first, in his defence. 

Cas finally caught up with you, after a chase of about five minutes around a black Sedan, and tackled you into a large pile of snow. You squealed and pushed at him, but he effortlessly smeared a handful of the cold white stuff across your face, chuckling. 

When he stopped, his hand dropped to support his weight, and you realised you were lying underneath him, with his hands either side of your face. Although you back was freezing from the ground beneath you, you could feel the heat radiating off Cas’ body. His dark blue eyes trailed up and down your face for a few brief seconds, and you shivered.

"You’re cold." He murmured, stroking the side of your face with two fingers, and rolling off you to help you stand. 

"Cas, I’m fine." You murmured, but he shook his head, taking off the trench coat and wrapping it around you. Instantly, you felt warmth spread across you, and smiled up at the Angel, as he led you across the car park and back to the motel room. 

When the two of you got back inside, he instructed you to go get changed in the bathroom, which you did. You peeled off your now soaking wet clothes and exchanged them for clean and dry ones. When you wandered back into the room, Cas was knelt by the TV, trying to get it to work. You giggled, and stooped down to help him, before dropping back onto the couch to channel surf. Cas sat beside you as you selected a film to watch, and gently wrapped his trench coat back around you, pulling you across him so you were cocooned against his body. One hand went to your hair, gently stroking back wet tendrils from your face. Beside you, your phone buzzed, alerting you to a text. 

You picked it up and checked it. It was from Dean. 

hey idk if u and cas have seen but its snowing heavily out there. sam and i r at a motel across town and cant get 2 u, so we will c u in the morning - D

You grinned, and sent a quick reply, before leaning back against Cas, who seemed to be more intent on combing his fingers through your damp hair than watching the film. 

"Sam and Dean can’t get here because of the snow," You told him, "So they’re in a motel across town."

He dropped a kiss on your temple, before burying his nose in the crook of you neck. “Good.”

You giggled, wrapping the trench coat further around you and leaning back into the Angel’s warm body.


	7. Dean Winchester x Reader: One Fatal Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Drabble/Humour  
> Word Count: 613

"Dean stop staring at me." You muttered, glancing up at him over the top of your book. The elder Winchester raised an eyebrow, unabashed. Beside him, Sam rolled his eyes and stood up, making some excuse about getting something to eat. As he left, Dean returned his gaze to you. 

"Stop." You ordered, going back to your book. You tried to concentrate on the words, but quickly realised you were simply reading the first line over and over again without taking any information in. Dean was still staring at you. 

"What?" You snapped, putting the book down on the table. A grin tugged at his lips. 

"I’m just thinking."

"About?"

"You." His grin widened as he stood up slowly, and began to make his way around the table. "And how you seem pretty moody lately. And how I know one sure-fire way of cheering you up."

You knew that look. 

"No way!" You yelled, leaping up from your chair and backing away from the grinning Winchester. "No! Dean, stay away from me!"

He chuckled, “Aw, is the itty bitty Hunter afraid of a little bit of tickling?”

"You know I’m ticklish!" You whined, backing up a little more. Dean cocked his head and continued to move towards you. 

"Yeah, it’s your one fatal weakness."

"Dean!" You cried, dodging to the left as he dove at you. "No!"

He laughed again, and moved towards you. You turned and ran out of the library, down into the kitchen, where Sam was preparing something. You ran through the kitchen and hide behind him. 

"What the -?" Sam looked down at you, and then up as Dean ran into the kitchen. "Oh."

"Sam he’s trying to tickle me!" You squeaked, cowering behind his huge form. Sam chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Sorry, can’t help you with that." He stepped away from you, giving Dean free access to you. He charged towards you again, and you side stepped out of the way, taking off again, down towards the bedrooms. You ran past Sam’s, and past your own, before stopping outside Dean’s. 

You could hear Dean’s footsteps behind you, and when you glanced around, you saw him sprinting down the corridor, still laughing. Yanking the door open, you leapt inside, slamming the door closed behind you and backing away from it. Only a few seconds later, Dean burst through the door, wiggling his fingers. 

You shrieked as he tackled you backwards onto his bed, tickling your sides. You squirmed and screamed, tossing and turning away from him. 

"No - Dean please - Please no-" You spluttered, pushing at his shoulders. He stopped for a moment to look up at you. His green eyes met yours, and he grinned again. 

"Do you want me to stop?"

“Yes!”

"Too bad!" He started tickling you again, one warm hand still moving at your waist, and the other at your neck. You tucked your head in and tried to curl up into a ball, pushing his arms away.

Finally, the tickling stopped, and you opened your eyes. Dean’s head was hanging inches from yours, and his lips were still pulled into a grin. Silence fell between the two of you as his eyes flickered towards your lips, and slowly, he leaned in. 

"Hey, do you two want some - WOAH okay sorry.” 

The two of you glanced over to the doorway, where Sam was standing, holding a plate with some form of food on. He was backing away slowly, holding out his free hand apologetically. 

"Sorry, didn’t mean to - uh… Have fun…" He babbled, closing the door with an awkward click. 

Chuckling, Dean turned back to you, with a glint in his eyes.


	8. Sam Winchester x Reader: Pollen is Bad for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Fluff  
> Word Count: 680

The sound of Sam Winchester sneezing echoed through the bunker, from the Library to the kitchen, where you were standing with Dean. 

"Jesus Christ!" Dean hissed, dropping the box of eggs he was holding. You squeaked as the box crashed to the floor, and the eggs smashed. Dean scowled up at you silently as Sam sneezed again, before calling out a weak, ‘Sorry’. 

You giggled and side stepped the disaster on the floor, before going to the Library to find Sam, who was clutching his head, hunched over a book. 

"Hey Sammy," You said, concealing your smile, "feeling alright?"

"Ugh," he sniffed, "Fuck you."

You laughed and joined him at the table. There was a big box a of half used Cleenex on the table next to him, which he was periodically dipping into to dig out more tissues. His eyes were red and tears were rolling down his cheeks. 

"I don’t get it." He mumbled, reaching for another tissue. "I’ve never -" Sniff, "- had Hay Fever before. Why now?"

You smiled sympathetically at the tall Winchester. You and Dean had been teasing him about his new found Hay Fever since the start of spring, when he’d started sneezing, but now you were getting a little worried. 

"Sam, have you been outside today?" You asked. He nodded and blew his nose. 

"Yeah, to get some stuff for Dean. Why?"

You motioned for him to get up. “There’s probably pollen on your clothes and in that mop of hair. Come on.” You guided him out of the room and to his bedroom. 

"What are we doing?"

“I’m not doing anything. You are getting in the shower. Strip off and give me your clothes so I can wash them. Sam gave a weak noise of protest, but you held out your hand expectantly. 

"Don’t make me strip you, Winchester.” You threatened, and briefly, the idea of stripping Sam down to his boxers before helping him scrub down in the shower appealed to you. You shook the thought out of your mind and waited as he pulled off his clothes and handed them to you.

"Good. Okay, when you get in there, scrub down. And I mean scrub, Sam. And wash your hair too; there’s probably plenty of pollen in it. No buts Sam.” You turned on your heel and marched out of the room with his clothes, back to the kitchen, where Dean had just finished cleaning up his egg mess. 

"What’s that?" He asked, eyeing up the bundle of clothes that you threw in the Washing Machine. 

"Sam’s clothes."

"Did you take those off him or did he give them up willingly?" Dean raised an eyebrow. 

"I need to get the pollen off. That’s why he;s taking a shower at the moment. I think we should scrub down as well before we go near him in future, at least until I can get him something from the Drug Store."

Dean pulled a face. It was obvious the idea of routine scrubbing didn’t appeal to him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, as you began pulling out mugs and milk. 

"Making Sam some Hot Chocolate." You said, taking out the Cocoa from the cup board. "He feels like shit, and Cocoa always makes me feel better when I’m ill, so…"

"You’ve become a good little nurse." Dean teased, before heading off to the Library. 

You sorted everything quickly, including getting pillows and blankets and a book for him, so that when Sam came out of the shower, he practically had a fort made for him on his bed. He chuckled gently. 

"This all for me?" He asked, accepting the Hot Chocolate you handed him. "Thanks." 

"You’re welcome," You picked up his favourite book and held it under his nose. "You’ve got entertainment and everything."

Sam settled down into bed, pulling the covers all the way up to his chin and grinning up at you sheepishly. “You want to read it to me? You know, to make me feel better?”

You barely managed to conceal your grin as you slid into bed next to him with the book. “Sure thing, Winchester.”


	9. Teenage!Dean Winchester x Teenage! Reader: I think you were apologising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Drabble  
> Word Count:1,208

"But daaaaaaaad." You whined, looking at him across the hood of his old Pickup. "You promised I’d be able to go out with the girls this weekend."

Your Dad shot you an incredulous look, tossing you your rucksack. “Put that in the car.”

You stood your ground, scowling at him. “You promised.”

"You know we ain’t gonna be in town long anyway. And besides, you’ve met John’s boys before, right?"

You folded your arms, pouting. You had met John Winchester’s boys before. A couple of years ago, John had gone on a Hunt with your dad, and you’d stayed with Dean and looked after Sam, his younger brother. The weekend hadn’t ended well - you and Dean didn’t exactly get along. 

"Why can’t I stay with Ellen and Jo?" You protested, climbing into the truck. "Or Bobby? Or Rufus?"

"Because John ain’t far, and that way you’re all together." You father snapped, starting the engine. "Now quit whining."

You turned away, watching rain begin to gently patter against your window. This was not going to be a fun weekend. 

____________

"This is ridiculous." You muttered as your father knocked on the door of a motel room. You were both stood in the pouring rain, waiting for John Winchester to open the door. When he did, he ushered the two of you inside quickly. 

"Good, you’re here." He nodded to your father, and then quickly glanced down at you. "Good to see you again."

You gave a non-committal grunt and pulled your soaking jacket closer around you. The motel room was small, dirty, and cramped. There were two small beds pushed against the far wall. On one bed, with his nose buried in a book, was Sam. He glanced over the top of it and shot you a quick, shy smile, which you returned. 

"Where’s Dean?" Your father asked. John muttered something about a supply run, before looking over at Sam.

"You two good to stay here and wait for Dean to get back?" He asked. Sam nodded silently, and you followed suit. John nodded, said goodbye to the two of you, and led your father back outside. The door closed with a very final ‘click’, and you were left alone with Sam Winchester. 

You dropped onto the worn couch and glanced over at Sam, who was still reading. 

"Good book?" You finally ventured, and he shrugged. 

"I’ve read worse."

You smiled a little. You remembered the last time you and Sam had met, he’d been so shy that he’d simply hidden behind Dean for the whole weekend, never uttering more than a couple of words to you at a time. Perhaps he was a little better now. 

Behind you, the door to the motel opened, and Dean sauntered in, carrying a brown paper bag in his hands. “Yo Dad, I’m home!” He called. 

"He’s gone already." You said, standing up and shooting him a small smile, which he didn’t return. 

"Who are you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and putting the bag on the table. You told him your name. 

"Don’t you remember her?" Sam piped up from the bed. "She came to stay with us for a weekend a couple of years ago."

Dean frowned, thinking back. Then, realisation dawned on his face, and he grinned. “Ah, I remember you… Uh…” He suddenly looked a little embarrassed, and you realised he was probably remembering how much the two of you had argued the last time you’d met. 

"Is that dinner?" You asked, trying to change the conversation. He nodded, pulling a couple of tins out and setting them down. 

"And I got the Lucky Charms, Sammy." He called, peeling off his leather jacket and throwing it down over the arm of the couch. 

Sam got up from the bed and padded across the room, examining the food with mild interest. 

"You want to get changed?" Dean asked, motioning to your clothing. You glanced down and realised with a start that the white t-shirt you were wearing had gone almost transparent from the rain. It wouldn’t have been as bad, if you hadn’t been wearing a black bra with it. You blushed and apologised, grabbing your bag and going to the bathroom to change. 

When you emerged, Sam was curled up on his bed again, and Dean was in the kitchen area, preparing dinner. You wandered over to join him, and peered around him to see what he was cooking. 

"Spaghetti-o’s tonight." He said apologetically. "Didn’t have much else at the corner store. 

"S’arlight. Is there anything I can do?" 

"Yeah," Dean held out the spoon. "Stir these and make sure they don’t burn. I’ll do the table."

You nodded and took up your position as Spaghetti-o stirrer while Dean got the table ready and quietly read. After a couple of minutes Dean rejoined you, gentle plucking the spoon from your grasp. You stepped back and watched him stir lazily. 

"So I’m sorry about last time." He said quietly, focusing on the pan. You raised an eyebrow. 

"Excuse me?"

"I’m sorry," He repeated, "About the last time you were here. I acted like a complete dick, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry."

"Dean-"

"Is it ready yet?" Sam appeared in between the two of you, interrupting your conversation and peering into the pan of food. 

"Almost. Go sit down." Dean ordered, shooting you an apologetic look. 

__________

Later that evening, after the rain had stopped, you’d stepped outside to get some fresh air. After about ten or fifteen minutes, Dean came out to join you. 

"Sam’s gone to bed." He explained, leaning against the railing of the stairs to your room. "So anyway, where were we?"

"I think you were apologising."

"Yeah," He grinned ruefully. "I’m really sorry about that."

"Don’t worry about it. I’d totally forgotten about it," You lied, smiling softly. This seemed to make Dean relax a little, because after that, he began talking more easily, and the two of you ended up spending almost an hour outside, talking and laughing. 

"We should probably go back in." Dean admitted, opening the door to the motel and leading you back inside. He quietly shut the door behind you and made sure it was locked, before creeping around the motel room and turning out most of the lights. You could just make out Sam’s sleeping figure on the bed furthest from you. 

"Get changed in the bathroom." Dean whispered, and you did as you were told. When you came back outside, Dean had stripped out of his plaid shirt and jeans, and exchanged them for plaid pyjama pants and a t-shirt. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the spare bed, and whispered, "You take mine."

You shook your head. “I’ll take the couch, it’s fine.”

"No, really, take the bed."

"Dean -"

"Seriously, take the bed -"

"Would you two shut up?" Sam snapped from his bed. "I’m trying to sleep."

You giggled, admitting defeat and crawling into Dean’s bed while he took the couch. You pulled the covers up to your chin and rolled over so you were facing the couch, where Dean was making himself comfortable. Just before he turned out the light, he looked over at you and winked, grinning.


End file.
